The Quest for Lyman
by Muchacho1994
Summary: Fed up with his life living with Garfield and Jon, Odie decides to run away to find Lyman again. A couple of parts are adapted from strips. Read and review!
1. The Straw That Broke Odie's Back

You ever feel like nobody loves you?

Yeah, that's how I feel about now.

Wanna know a secret? You see, for the past few years or so, I've been feeling a sense of emptiness inside. I think I'm depressed.

Don't laugh. I know this is a shock to you, because you think I'm one of the happiest little doggies in the whole world. Well, sure I am, at least on the outside. At least in front of Garfield and Jon. _They can never know_. If they find out, I'll literally never hear the end of it.

It's already bad enough as it is, what with Garfield ignoring me most of the time except to beat me up and laugh at me. Jon is usually nice enough to me, but he doesn't really know what Garfield does to me when he's not looking.

Lyman's been on my mind a lot too recently. The problem is that lately, every time I think of him, I get all teary. He was my best owner ever and I miss him. I've only seen him once since he abandoned me to do his safari thing, and even then I couldn't go through with the idea of leaving Garfield and Jon. I absolutely hated watching Garfield run and cry into Jon's leg when Lyman told them I was staying back with him. Needless to say, I quickly regretted my decision and told Lyman I wanted to go home.

But that was back when they were nicer to me, and I could trust them more. Sure, Garfield still kicked me and stuff, but I felt like he actually loved me deep down. We were kinda like best buds and we agreed on a lot of things. Sometimes, we'd team up to play tricks on Jon. Heh.

But that was before.

Now Garfield never plays with me and never even really interacts with me much, except to make fun of me or kick me. And I've noticed the kicking's been, well, escalating.

Suppressing these feelings doesn't really help much. It used to, but now it doesn't. I'm still unhappy. Every time I try to distract myself with something fun, Garfield ruins it. For example:

* * *

 **A few days ago...**

 _I was interrupted from my nap by the sound of the front door opening. It was Jon, and he had arrived home from the store with a box. "Look what I got you, Odie!" he said. So I ran over, and excitedly tore open the box. It was a little superhero outfit. It came with a red cape, a blue jumpsuit with a shield with the letter "O" on it, a red speedo, and some red booties. It. Was. Wicked. Cool._

 _"They had a version for every initial, but this was the last one they had in your size with an "O" on it. Do you like it, Odie?"_

 _I barked my approval and thanked Jon with a big doggy kiss. I couldn't wait to try it on._

 _After I got dressed in my costume, I hooked up a little fan, you see, to keep my cape in the air. I was ready to begin my pretend career as Super Odie._

 _Humming a little fanfare to myself, I made up a little opening narration in my head as I marched around proudly:_

 _ **Faster than a speeding basset hound! More powerful than an asthmatic chihuahua! Able to leap dingleballs in a single bound!**_

 _I hopped up on the table, pretending it was a tall building that I was posing on top of._

 _ **Up on the table! It's a bird dog! It's a plane! It's SUPER ODIE!**_

 _With my cape waving around, and giving a thumbs up, the fanfare I was humming crescendoed. But not in a good way. I think I heard the dining room window crack slightly. Perhaps I should enroll in singing lessons next year when I start taking classes at the community center. I wanted to do clogging, but Jon can only afford to let me take one class, and I don't want to crack any more windows._

 _Now, what should be Super Odie's first adventOOF!_

 _Without any warning, I felt something make contact with the seat of my speedo and I went flying. Except this wasn't exactly the way I intended to fly._

 _Splat._

 _I slid down from the wall onto the floor, my head spinning and my body aching. Through my blurred vision, I was able to focus enough to make out Garfield standing over me and snickering._

 _"Up, up, and away!" he mocked before walking away with a cackle. I groaned sadly. Thus endeth the only installment of The Adventures of Super Odie._

* * *

See what I mean? Every time I try to have a little fun. _Every time._ I didn't even get a chance to find a sidekick, or rescue people trapped in a burning building, or stop the evil Dr. Pooky from pushing the big red button and nuking the town, or... *sniff* or...

Oh, God, herecomesGarfield, ACTHAPPY. Come on, suck it up, smile and drool, smile and drool.

" _Oh, hey, Odie, what's up?_ " Garfield says, walking toward me. But something isn't right to him. " _Uh, Odie?_ " I'm smiling and panting as best I can. I must still have tears in my eyes. No wonder Garfield's worried about me. " _Is everything okay?_ "

I growl at him as if to say, "I don't want to talk about it right now. Go away, Garfield."

" _Odie, you're not yourself._ " Well, DUH. Of _course_ I'm not myself. I've _never_ been myself. I wish you knew how it felt. THAT'S IT! I have to give Garfield a taste of his own medicine. I have to show him! Maybe then he'll finally understand!

I run up behind him and pull my leg back... WAIT. This doesn't feel right! Not only that, it's totally out of character for me! I love Garfield. I could never hurt him by kicking off the table. And I bet deep, deep, down, Garfield still loves me too. I give him a hug to apologize.

" _What are you DOING?_ " Oops, he... looks angry now. " _Will you please STOP IT?!"_ With that, he grabs me, and tosses me off the edge. He didn't even do it as a prank or anything. He just did it. Now I know he doesn't care about me.

I land with a small _thud_. A sharp pain twinges in my leg, and as I look down to examine it, I realize he's actually gone and twisted my ankle this time. Ouch! It's already starting to swell a bit. Why, that horrible little... er, little...

...wwwwwwWWW **WWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!**

Garfield runs up and starts petting me and is all like, " _Odie! There, there, Odie, shh, shh, calm down, shh!_ " I'm not sure if he's truly concerned about me or if he's just trying to silence me before Jon hears, but because of the franticness in his voice, I have a hunch it's probably the latter. " _It's going to be okay!_ "

Those are the words that push me over the edge. It's _not_ going to be okay, _you just twisted my ankle, you twit!_ In fact, I never want to see your face again because I CAN'T TAKE IT. Yelping and howling, I run, despite the pain in my ankle, and hide under the tablecloth. I feel like everything is falling apart. I almost feel ill.

"What's going on in here!?" I hear Jon shout, as his footsteps get louder and louder. I peek out to watch Garfield run and hide in the broom closet. Although I'm still very much traumatized, a small part of my mind hopes that this incident will expose Garfield for the evil monster he is.

Jon walks in and sees the tablecloth shivering. He pulls me out and holds me up. "Odie? What's wrong, buddy?"

I manage to quickly pantomime what happened before I fall to pieces again. Jon picks me up and cradles me a little bit, before I bury my face into his shoulder and just weep for the longest time. Not really because of my ankle, which is really only a minor part of it. It's because I can't take the abuse anymore, I can't take Garfield anymore, and I can't take my _life_ anymore.

Eventually Jon sets me down on a chair and puts my ankle on ice, and yells, "GARFIIIIIEEEEELD! You come here _right now_ , mister!" The fury in his voice makes me shudder. That's how mad he is, and he's right to be mad.

Nothing happens.

"I SAID GET IN HERE, _OR YOU'RE NOT GETTING DINNER TONIGHT!_ "

 _That_ makes Garfield listen. He enters slowly on all fours, and sits down trying to look innocent, although you can kinda tell he's guilty.

"Garfield, Odie's twisted his ankle really badly," yells Jon sternly.

Pretending that he had no knowledge of this beforehand, Garfield does one of those big, exaggerated, melodramatic gasps that's so stupid sounding, it makes me roll my eyes a little. I'm quite impressed by his lung capacity, though. That gasp of his lasted for almost eight seconds. He then goes up to me, and, feigning cornern, says, " _Oh, my gosh! That's terrible! Who could have done such a thing to poor widdle Odie?_ " He pinches my cheek like he's my grandma. I just glare at him slightly.

Jon continues. "The reason I called you in here, Garfield, is because Odie says that _you_ had something to do with it. If you're the one who twisted Odie's ankle like this, there'll be no lasagna for a _month!_ "

I look over and see that Garfield's starting to break into a cold sweat at this point. That cat _really_ loves lasagna. Sometimes he'll go as far as to jump in and smear it all over himself, just so other people won't be able to eat it.

"Well, Garfield?" Jon growls intimidatingly. "Did you hurt Odie?" Garfield's lip quivers. Actually, his whole _body_ quivers. "ANSWER ME, GARFIELD!" Jon almost roars.

Garfield stops quivering, and shakes his head "no" quickly but sincerely. " _No, uh, sir, I-I didn't._ "

I let out a small chuckle. Ha! That's such an obvious lie, there's no way Jon'll buy it!

Jon turns to me and frowns. He's silent for a very, very long time. His cold eyes pierce my soul. Finally, he speaks. "Odie... tsk-tsk-tsk. Why?"

He bought it. _He actually bought it._

I swallow hard.

"Garfield, uh, you can go back to whatever you were doing." Behind him, I see Garfield click his heels and pump his fist. And although Jon doesn't hear it because he's not an animal like me, Garfield yells out " _YYYYYES!_ " before he skips out of the room.

Jon is so upset with me that he's not even angry. He actually looks kind of sad. He snatches the ice pack off my ankle, which makes it start stinging again.

"I'm surprised at you, Odie," Jon says quietly. "I don't understand why you would fake getting hurt to try and get Garfield in trouble."

Uh, Jon, I _am_ hurt. Can't you see I'm starting to swell up again because you took away my ice pack?

"Lying is bad, Odie. Garfield almost got in trouble for something he didn't do. I'm afraid you're gonna have to go outside for a few hours until you're ready to tell him you're sorry."

Go outside? _GO OUTSIDE?!_ Why me?! Why is this happening? This isn't _fair_! Ignoring the pain in my leg, I stand up in the recliner, and give Jon a good piece of my mind.

"Odie, stop pitching a fit like you're doing and come on. The mature thing to do is just accept your punishment."

So, I follow Jon to the back door. He opens it for me, but I'm not sure if I want to go out. Do I really deserve this?

Jon checks his watch. "Odie, come on, I haven't gotten all day. I have to get ready for my date."

I cross my arms and say, "Uh-uh!" rather firmly. Uh-oh. Jon's really ticked now. He literally _throws_ me out the door into the yard, so hard I roll about twenty feet after I land. I watch helplessly as he slams the door.

I don't understand why I'm out here. I didn't do anything wrong. It was Garfield. _He's_ the liar, not me. I don't get why Jon will believe Garfield more than he will me, even though Garfield lies a lot more than I do.

A butterfly flutters by and I stay very still in order to get it to land on me. But instead, the butterfly just flies right past me. It's strange. Usually butterflies are very attracted to me— this one time, several of them landed on me at once and it was pretty awesome. But I guess this time, the butterfly somehow sensed that I've been "bad" and ignored me.

Through the haze of tears, I see Garfield inside the dining room window eating his dinner of lasagna. I whimper and paw on the window to get his attention, but when he gets up from the table to look, he just makes a silly face at me, and tells me, " _Get lost, doofus! Ha!_ " Then he lowers the blinds and draws the curtains.

Why is Garfield so mean towards me? I've never understood it. Is it because he thinks I'm dumb? I can't help if I'm dumb.

I haven't gone even _one day_ in _years_ without being bullied in one way or another by Garfield. I can't take it anymore. All these years, I've tried to be a friend to him, in the hopes that maybe he would be a friend to me back. *sniff sniff* _But he never was!_ *sob!* He hasn't been friendly to me in ages! He's not my friend! I don't have any friends! *sob!* I'm all alone in the vast expanse of the universe, completely friendless! I just want to have friends who actually love me! _Is that too much to ask?!_

I curl up into a tiny ball and snivel. **AROOOOOOOOOO!**

I cry all the next day, and I'm not in the mood to eat anything. I'm unable to get over the fact that Garfield doesn't really love me. After he twisted my ankle like he did, I wonder why I even trust him in the first place. He doesn't deserve to be trusted. I've endured his abuse long enough. I can't handle it. My nerves can't handle it. I'm sick of pretending that I'm content with my life. I'm not content with my life. I can't do it anymore! I have to take action— I'm going to run away forever. But where exactly?

It's at this point I start thinking about Lyman. I miss Lyman so badly. I feel like he would understand me. Because whoever these guys are, they sure don't.

Hey... why am I moping around like this? It's not like Lyman's dead or anything. Maybe I can convince him to quit his job being the, uh, I'm pretty sure it had a "Z" in it... it's been so long... oh, well, it doesn't matter right now. I'm moving out and going to live with Lyman!

* * *

 ** _(A/N) So, guys, I'm really enjoying fleshing out Odie's character and personality. I love how this story's going so far, and I hope you do too. The next chapter will be here soon. And before you ask, no I didn't forget what the Zabadu was called. It's just that Odie isn't the brightest._**

 ** _Why am I writing so many Garfield fics lately? This isn't like me..._**


	2. Odie Says Farewell

_"So you want me to help you get this suitcase out of the closet?_ "

"Arf!"

I'm in Jon's bedroom, standing on a chair, trying to get one of his suitcases out of the top shelf of the closet. It wouldn't be so bad if Jon didn't have so many suitcases crammed onto the shelf. I tried pulling one out earlier and it's stuck. They're all stuck because there's not enough room for them all. So, I've called Garfield over to help me.

Together, we tug, and struggle, and finally pull out a suitcase for me. Or two. Or three. Or eleven. Ooh. I hope that doesn't bruise in the morning.

After putting the other ten suitcases that fell off back on the shelf, I now am left with one suitcase, which is still more than enough for all my belongings. I put in my dog dish, some dingleballs, some squeaky bones, dog treats, some clothes (for when I do need clothes), my Super Odie costume, my passport, my dog bed, and a drawing pad and colored pencils for the flight to Australia. I also took about $2,000 dollars from Jon's wallet, you know, to pay for my ticket. I'm sure he won't mind. I also pack a picture of Jon and Garfield. I don't know why, because it's not like I'm gonna miss them.

" _So, anyway, Odie, what are you packing for?_ " inquires Garfield.

I don't know much about Australia, so I hope my imitation of a kangaroo will suffice. Boing! Boing!

" _Australia?_ " Garfield scratches his head. " _Why on earth are you going there?_ " I run off and grab a picture of Lyman off the fireplace mantle, from when he was still around. Garfield looks at it and smiles. " _Oh, you want to pay old Lyman a visit, don't you?_ " I nod eagerly. " _But, Odie, don't you know how far that is from here?!_ "

He leaves and returns with a globe. First, he points to wherever it is we live. " _Okay, we're here, right? And Australia is all the way across the ocean._ " He draws an imaginary line with his finger to a large island near the bottom of the globe, which I guess is Australia. " _You'll have to fly to get there, Odie. How'll you afford that?_ "

I unzip my suitcase to show him my money. Garfield takes it from me and counts it. " _Well, I guess that'll be enough for **one** ticket. But how will you pay for the ticket home?_ "

See, that's the part he doesn't know about. There _is_ no ticket home because Australia is going to be my new home.

" _Well, maybe I'm wrong about the money. See ya, Odie. I'm gonna go watch TV._ " He saunters back into the living room.

I put the money back into the suitcase and re-zip it. I'm about to tell Jon goodbye, but then I realize I have no idea where the airport is. Silly me. Besides, my ankle still hurts a bit and I don't want to walk more than I have to. I'll just have to hitchhike, I guess.

Don't hitchhikers write where they want to go on cardboard? Hmm. I can't write. I don't know how. No one ever taught me! I've seen Garfield write before, so I know that he knows how— I'll see if he can be of assistance again. Oh, Garfield!

"Ruff! Ruff!"

" _Oh, what is it now_ _, Odie?_ " says Garfield, walking into the bedroom again. He looks sort of annoyed. " _Can't you see I'm trying to watch the season premiere of_ Name That Fish _?_ "

I tear one of the flaps off a white cardboard box and find a red Sharpie. Garfield looks perplexed when I hand them to him. " _What are these for, Odie?_ " the cat asks. I take the cardboard from him and mime thumbing down a car. He seems to understand immediately. " _Oh, you want to hitchhike? But where? You can't hitchhike to Australia, dummy!_ "

I move my paw in the air like it's an airplane taking off and make a swooshing sound. " _Oh, you want to hitch a ride to the airport and you want me to help you write a sign! I get it now!_ " In record time, he writes "NEED RIDE TO AIRPORT" on the cardboard in some of the neatest handwriting I've ever seen. " _Okay, looks like you're all set!_ " he says, before giving me a big hug. " _Have fun on your trip, Odie. Goodbye!_ " With that, he leaves the room again.

I like how nice Garfield is being to me. It reminds me of how he was in the old days. Maybe I should unpack and stay here.

Nah!

Next, I go and find Jon. He's in his cartooning studio, drawing something at his easel. I "yip" to get his attention.

"Oh, hi, Odie!" he greets me cheerfully. "Do you want to see what I've been working on?"

I shake my head politely and squeeze him tightly. I see Jon's getting weirded out by it. I'm not usually a hugger. "Um, okay? I love you too, Odie." He pats me on the head and I lick his face. Then I walk out of the room and wave goodbye.

"Uh... bye, Odie!" he chuckles, waving back at me. "Hmm..."

I stand in the doorway for a second, just to get one last look at him. A little smile grows on my face as I hop away. I can't wait to see Lyman again.

Wheeling my suitcase behind me, I'm about to leave when Garfield leaps in front of me, screaming " _BON VOYAGE!_ " at the top of his voice and throwing confetti, nearly startling me to death. " _Ha! Did I scare you, fraidy dog? You jumped a mile and went 'BYOOWW!'_ " I can't help but giggle. It _was_ kind of funny.

" _Well, anyway, I hope you have a great time visiting Lyman and have a safe journey there and back. It's gonna be quiet here without you. I won't have anyone to kick off the table, or blame when I get in trouble, or use as a trampoline..._ " He starts to sniffle and his eyes get wet, but he hangs his head to try and hide it from me. " _...sorry, I'm getting all misty..._ "

We embrace for a few seconds, but for some reason it makes me feel an odd lumpy sensation in my throat, like when I get fed bread crusts and don't chew them enough. I'm gonna miss this pl—oh, no! I think I'm starting to get all sentimental! I'd better leave right now before it's too late and I can't go through with it. Pulling away, I take my suitcase and sign and run outside, slamming the door behind me.

I hear Garfield yell " _So long, Odie!_ " through the door.

As I stop at the end of the driveway, I wonder why Garfield was so nice to me today. I chalk it up to him being happy that I'm leaving. Yeah, sounds about right. Anyway, I feel like our farewell was somewhat bittersweet. Sure, I'll be finally rid of the abuse, stress, repression, and low-quality "dohg kibl", but now I'm stuck with all these memories of us before he turned mean, from a time when I didn't really care about how Garfield treated me because he was nice overall and I enjoyed playing with him. He wasn't a jerk like he is now.

Whatever, that's all in the past now. I'm ready to wipe the slate clean, turn to a new chapter, you know, start my life over from scratch.

I set my suitcase down and hold up my sign. I begin to wonder how I'm supposed to thumb down a car with no thumbs, but remember I'm a cartoon character, so I _must_ have thumbs. Yay!

Many, many cars pass by. But I wait patiently, and after fifteen or twenty minutes, one does stop. I've chased a lot of cars in my lifetime, and just by the smell of it, _if_ I'm not mistaken, I believe this is a 1991 Cadillac Sedan de Ville.

"Come on in!" calls the driver. I open the door and climb in onto the soft leather seat, laying my suitcase in the floorboard.

The driver is a ginger man who looks to be around his early twenties with a puffy vermillion afro and thick-rimmed trapezoidal glasses. They aren't rounded around the edges. Just straight lines. I think they look cool that way. He's wearing a Colts T-shirt. Just to be on the safe side, I think I'd better get a whiff of his hand. *sniff sniff sniff* Yeah, he seems okay. I lick his hand slightly to show my approval.

"So, I see you're headed for the airport?" he says to me as I buckle up.

"Arf!" I answer.

"That's not too far out of my way. My name's Jason. What's yours? Oh, yeah, you can't tell me your name, you're a dog!" We share a laugh before Jason observes something. "Wait a minute, you look like that yellow dog from the funny pages. I think your name's Oggy, right? Does Gerald live in that house too?"

I shake my head.

"You're not Oggy from the _Gerald_ comic? You look a lot like the dog Gerald always pushes off the china cabinet."

"Mmm-mmm." I shake my head again. Come to think of it, I _do_ sort of bear a resemblance to Oggy. I guess I just never made the connection until now.

"Then what _is_ your name?" Jason wonders. I figure this is the perfect time to unzip my suitcase again and pull out my passport. "Rarf!" I bark as I hand it to him. He opens it up and examines it until he finds what he wants. "Oh, your name is Odie! That's a nice name."

"Ruff! *pant pant*" I agree.

"Your passport picture is _gnarly_ , man!" exclaims Jason. The picture is of me clad in a fedora, business suit and tie, from when Jon took us to the beach and Garfield and I needed to pose as humans in order to get passports, so we wouldn't have to ride in the luggage compartment. The outfit looked silly at first, but now I think it looks rather dashing on me. He hands me my passport back and I place it back into my suitcase.

"So, you ready?" says Jason.

I give him the thumbs up. Jason puts it in drive and we start off for the airport. As we leave, I turn to look back at my old house for the last time, but can't help but see flashing colored lights in the windows. My sensitive canine ears also pick up the very faint sound of a bass dropping. Is Garfield throwing a big dance party for himself in there, now that I'm gone? Hmm. The thought of Garfield celebrating my departure makes me question the legitimacy of the little goodbye speech Garfield made before I left.

In a weird way, I kinda feel sorry for him. He still thinks my trip to Australia is only temporary. But I quickly forget about him when I see the arm of some shades sticking out of the glove compartment. I open it, pull them out, and put them on. Now I can hitchhike in _style_ , baby!

Since having a conversation is pointless because I'm a dog and can only do "yes" or "no" questions, I turn the radio on and hear the end of a weather report before a radio jingle plays: " _Ninety-six-point foooooour! *very, very, very long drum solo* WUHG!_ " It's not the _worst_ jingle I've ever heard, but the vocals sounded a bit flat and the 26-second drum solo (yeah, I counted) was kind of stupid.

After that, it starts blasting an old Chubby Checker ditty. Jason literally squeals. "I love Chubby Checker! I listen to him all the time in the car!" I can't wrap my head around why someone would listen to Chubby in the car, because his music makes you want to get up and boogie—you can't really do the twist while you're sitting inside a car, being strapped in by a seatbelt. Instead of getting tangled up in my seatbelt attempting to dance the twist in the car, I'd rather just lie back with my arms behind my head and watch the clouds through the sunroof.

By the way, these seat controls are amazing. You can move your seat up, down, left, right, forward, _and_ back! Is that not sweet?After playing with the controls for a bit, I figure out how to make the back of my seat recline.

"It's a nice car, isn't it? It used to be my dad's. Then he gave it to me and bought another one," Jason tells me. "It's _so_ reliable and gets me wherever I need to go. It's got almost 300,000 miles on it, but it still runs like new."

He continues to talk about his car. My nose was right earlier; it _is_ a '91 model. But then he just keeps going and _going_. I raise my sunglasses and narrow my eyes at him, but he doesn't seem to get the hint.

As we get on the interstate, he starts talking about how at one point, he actually fell in _love_ with the car and began a relationship with it, and how the car "liked" it when he kissed its wheel in one specific spot. Absolutely _repulsive_. Not wanting to lose my lunch, I decide to finally intervene and put my paw over his mouth.

He finally turns to look at me for a second. I grab my throat and stick out my tongue while making a gagging noise, as if to tell him, "Dude. No. That's freakin' gross."

"Oh, I'm sorry," he apologizes in an understanding tone, turning his eyes back to the road. "I guess that _was_ pretty disgusting." Tell me about it—why isn't brain bleach a thing yet? "I'll be quiet, okay?"

I look back up at the clouds through the sunroof and try to forget about the story Jason was telling me. It's difficult, but I succeed in erasing it completely from my mind, at least for the time being.

I like clouds. They can turn into all sorts of different shapes if the wind is right. There's a bone. And over to the left of it is a turtle. And _waaaaaay_ over to the right, almost outside of my view from the sunroof, I make out what looks somewhat like a pan of lasagna. Oh, Garfield and his lasagna. He never shared any of it with me, but I'm sure Lyman will make me some when I get to Australia.

The thought of finally getting to taste lasagna makes me so happy that my eyelids start to feel heavy behind my shades. Since I was up so early this morning preparing to leave for Australia, I don't bother fighting the drowsiness and close my eyes all the way, swiftly falling into a blissful slumber. _Zzzzzzzzzz..._


End file.
